


Fine Feathered Friend

by SeeWell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bird Castiel (Supernatural), Curse Breaking, Curses, Dean doesn't know how to take care of a bird, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, POV Castiel, Witches, but he tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 03:55:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15743748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeWell/pseuds/SeeWell
Summary: Castiel gets hit with a spell that transforms him into a large bird. The Winchesters have to figure out how to change him back before it's too late.*I don't know a lot about birds, but this seemed cute <3





	Fine Feathered Friend

Dean looks down at Castiel and shrugs. “Can you mojo yourself back?” he asks.

Sam winces. “Dude, we don’t even know if Cas is in there.”

Castiel glares at him. Obviously he’s “in there.” He means to say something but it comes out as a screech. Frustrated, he ruffles his feathers.

Their latest encounter was with a witch, and that witch just so happened to be very powerful. With her dying breath she sent a spell hurtling toward Dean. Castiel jumped into its path.

He thought it would be the last thing he’d ever do. He was wrong. Why the witch cast this particular spell will remain a mystery, but whatever the reason it turned Castiel from an almighty angel of the lord into a large, powerless bird.

He’s sitting on the hood of the Impala staring up at the brothers. He screeches again.

“I think he’s a golden eagle,” says Sam.

“He looks kind of pissed about it,” says Dean. He waves his hand in front of Castiel’s face. “You in there? Squawk twice for yes and once for no.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “He can just shake his head or nod.”

Castiel nods.

“Good,” says Dean. “See that? Progress. Do you have your grace?”

Castiel doesn’t know the answer to that. He shuffles from foot to foot and ruffles his feathers again. He can feel it but he can’t access it.

“Ok,” says Dean. “I’ll take that to mean you don’t know.”

Castiel nods again. He stretches his wings. At the very least it’s nice to have wings again.

Dean’s attention turns to his phone so Castiel decides to test his new body. He flaps his wings and lands somewhat clumsily on Dean’s shoulder.

“Nosy,” says Dean. “I’m looking to see if there’s a god or something that specializes in bird spells. Maybe the thing we killed wasn’t a witch.”

“We’ll have better luck researching it back home,” says Sam.

“Yeah, all right. I guess we’ll head back. Sam, hop in the back. I don’t want Cas bumping around in the car.” He frowns. “Should I buckle him in?”

Castiel screeches and shakes his head.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

“I’m with Cas,” says Sam. “You might mess up his feathers or something.”

Dean huffs. “All right bird-brain. Looks like you’re riding shotgun.”

Castiel does not like riding in the car in his new body. He’s too short to see out of the windows for one, and the seats don’t fit against his body for another. He finally gives up on standing and settles down sideways.

“I appreciate what you did back there,” says Dean. “Jumping between me and that cast. That was a ballsy move.”

Castiel can’t say “you’re welcome” so he says nothing at all.

 

* * *

Castiel is still a bird the next day. He makes the mistake of trying to turn on the faucet in the kitchen. After some struggling he succeeds, but his feathers are soaked.

“What the hell?” asks Dean.

Castiel hangs his head. He’s created a small pond on the counter.

“Move so I can clean this up.”

Castiel attempts to fly, but instead topples to the floor.

“Oh shit, ok. Don’t move.” Dean offers him an arm.

Dazed, Castiel climbs onto him and blinks. He clicks his beak.

“I guess I need to clean you up, too.”

Castiel shakes his head and claws his way up to Dean’s shoulder.

“Ow. Dude, you have knives for feet. Be careful.”

Castiel can’t say “I’m sorry.”

Dean reaches up and scratches Castiel’s head. “It’s all right. That’s what layers of clothes are for.”

Dean cleans the counter and Castiel stays on his shoulder. It’s probably more of hindrance than anything, but it feels like he’s helping and Dean doesn’t seem to mind.

“You probably need to eat something, I don’t know what eagles eat though. Rabbits?” Dean glances at him.

Castiel shakes his head.

“Fish? I think we have canned tuna around here somewhere.”

Castiel snorts.

“You have to eat something. If you don’t have your grace then you need to do bird stuff to survive. That means eating and not flooding the kitchen.”

Castiel sighs. He’s useless like this. He’s useless anyway.

Dean lowers his arm onto the table like a ramp so Castiel can get down. “Wait here. I’ll find you something.” He fills a bowl with water and sets it in front of Castiel. “In case you’re still thirsty.”

Castiel glares at the bowl. This is what he’s been reduced to, drinking from a bowl like a pet.

Dean returns a moment later with raw chicken. “The internet says you don’t eat fish so much, but you do eat small mammals and other birds. I figure chicken will work for now.”

Castiel blinks at him because that’s certainly not what he wanted. He looks between Dean and the piece of meat he’s just set on the table.

“Don’t give me that face. At least try it. If it’s terrible, I’ll cook it for you.”

Castiel nods. He tears off a small piece. It’s a challenge working with a beak instead of teeth, but he manages.

“Use your talons to help tear it up.”

Castiel cocks his head to the side.

“I’ve seen it on TV. Birds do that.”

Much to his disappointment the chicken is delicious and it doesn’t taste like molecules. His stomach rumbles and he tears away more pieces.

“Talons,” reminds Dean.

Castiel tries it and of course, it works. He’s picking pieces of chicken off of his feet when he notices Dean is frowning at him.

“Now what?”

Castiel shrugs his wings and shakes his head.

“You’re covered in poultry and you’re still wet. Maybe you need a bath.”

Castiel quickly shakes his head.

“Why not? You’re already soaked.”

He spreads his wings and flaps a few times to shake the water from his feathers.

“Yeah, you say that now but your flight feathers are drenched. Your tail is drenched. Your feet are dirty and I doubt you know how to preen your feathers.”

Castiel wants with all his heart to contest Dean’s sudden knowledge of birds, but he doesn’t need to.

“I did some research. You’re a golden eagle like Sam said. We need to do this the right way. I don’t know what the counter spell is, but I’ll be damned if this is the curse that beats us.”

Castiel thinks for a moment. He doesn’t want a bath. That seems terribly unappealing. He screeches then hops into his water bowl and splashes around. His feet should be clean now. He looks to Dean, proud to have found a compromise.

Dean just shakes his head. “Fine. Have it your way.” He lowers his arm. “Come on. We’ll let you dry off in the sun.” He takes his laptop in the other hand. “We’ll go outside and figure this stuff out.”

They sit in the sunshine and Castiel spreads his wings.

Dean shows him a video of an eagle cleaning his feathers. “Does this make any sense to you?”

It does. Castiel knows how to take care of feathers. It’s not so different than maintaining his own wings. He picks at his feathers and rearranges them.

“Let me help,” says Dean. He works on one wing while Castiel works on the other.

It’s nice and strangely intimate. Castiel clicks his beak, but tries not to make a big deal about it.

 

* * *

He doesn’t know where the Winchesters found a supply of rabbits and other small creatures, but his appetite doesn’t question it. He’s not as picky as he was on day one.

He sleeps perched on a soft chair in Dean’s room. A small, strange part of him wants to nibble at Dean’s hair and steal a few strands. That same part seems to also want Dean’s blanket.

Castiel blinks and the next thing he knows he’s on Dean’s bed with a beak full of hair.

It wakes Dean and he stares at him.

Castiel has no explanation for himself. He returns sheepishly to his chair, hair still clutched in his beak.

“Do I get to know what the hell that was about?” asks Dean.

Castiel lowers his head.

“You don’t know?”

He shakes his head.

“Well don’t do it again.”

He nods.

Dean rolls back over.

Without really thinking about it, Castiel picks at the back of the chair until the fabric rips. He tucks the pieces of hair inside, then settles in for the night. For some reason, he feels better.

The next day Castiel has another strange episode. He’s outside with Sam and Dean then suddenly he has a large stick in his mouth and is making a B-line for Dean’s room.

“What, why?” asks Dean.

Castiel tucks the branch into the cushion of the chair. He blinks at Dean.

Sam tugs on his brother’s arm. “I think he’s nesting.”

Nesting. That feels right. He eyes the blanket on the bed.

“No,” says Dean.

“Come on,” says Sam. “Let him have it. What harm is it going to do?”

“I’ll be cold, for one.”

At that Castiel perks up. Somewhere, something in him clicks; something deep and primal. He takes the stick and tucks it lengthwise into the foot of Dean’s bed.

“Oh hell no,” says Dean.

“Uh-oh,” says Sam. “Cas, you’re still in there, right?”

Castiel nods. Of course he is. He just needs to build a nest, that’s all. He hops down from the bed and flies up to Dean’s shoulder.

“What are you thinking?” asks Dean.

“I’m thinking that spell is de-humanizing.”

“Cas isn’t human.”

“You know what I mean. I think it’s turning him into a bird.”

“He’s still talking to us though; still communicating.”

“For now,” says Sam, “but when was the last time Cas dragged a stick into the house?”

Castiel screeches. He’s heard of spells like this. If that’s what hit him, then the witch they killed was old and very powerful. He’s lucky he didn’t get something much worse. He’s not worried though. For now he still feels sort of like himself. The spell will take a while to set in. They still have time to figure it out.

Dean moves the stick from his bed.

Castiel makes a sound almost like a hiss.

“Ok,” says Dean. “I’ll leave it for now, but I’m not sleeping with it.”

 

* * *

It takes Castiel a few days to completely secure Dean’s bed, but once he’s done he’s proud of his work. The nest is massive and it surrounds the mattress. He added towels and blankets for human comfort, plus some of his downy feathers. Dean may have a few bald spots in the back of his head from where Castiel took more hair than he intended, but overall it’s a nice place to sleep.

Dean complains about it every night, but every night he crawls into the nest, muttering to himself.

Castiel settles beside him and when Dean has a nightmare or gets restless during the night, all he has to do is nibble on his ear and Dean falls back to sleep.

He feels good. His home is in working order. His friend is as happy as he’s going to be and they are safe.

He doesn’t wait for Dean to feed him the next day. He leads Dean outside and takes to the sky. He finds himself swooping and diving in front of him as they walk away from the bunker.

Dean holds his arm out and Castiel lands. “You’re in a good mood today,” he says.

That’s not quite the reaction Castiel wanted. Then again, he’s not sure what he was hoping for so he takes to the sky again. He flies as high as he can then drops back to earth, spiraling as he falls. He catches himself at the last moment and turns to see Dean’s reaction.

“Don’t do that!”

Castiel lands and tilts his head.

“You’re going to crash. You’re not actually an eagle.”

Castiel ruffles his feathers. That’s definitely not the reaction he wanted. He takes flight again. He may not be a bird, but he’s not new to wings or flying. He knows what he’s doing. He spreads his wings wide, knowing they are strong and impressive. He does a few tricks, swoops, turns, then falls back to Dean. He lands smoothly on his forearm.

“What was that about?”

Castiel nibbles his ear then quickly retreats. He’s never done that outside of the nest.

“And what the hell was _that_ about?” asks Dean.

Castiel screeches an apology.

“You’re freaking me out a little. Are you feeling ok?”

Castiel nods. He feels fantastic. Better than he’s felt in years. He even has a purpose. He’s not sure what took him so long to realize it. Dean is his purpose. Hunting and Dean. That’s all that matters. He claws his way up to Dean’s shoulder and nestles there.

“All right bird man, let’s go back in. I’ve got a feeling we need to catch up on some research.” Dean tries to set him down when they get inside, but Castiel protests. He performed very well outside and he’s earned the right to sit next to his friend. “Come on, man,” says Dean. “I can’t do as much with you attached to me.”

That hurts. He doesn’t know why, but when Dean sets him down it hits him right in the heart. He hangs his head and flutters to an old chair in the corner of the room.

“How’s he doing today?” asks Sam.

Castiel didn’t even realize he was there.

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” answers Dean. “He’s getting birdier every day. I think we’re running out of time.”

Castiel picks at the fabric on the back of the chair.

“He did some serious bird acrobatics today then he tried to bite me.”

“Bite you?” asks Sam.

“Yeah, he bit my ear.”

Castiel snorts. That wasn’t at all what happened. He glares at Dean.

“I’m worried we’re going to lose him,” he says. “I don’t know if I should let him go outside any more. I don’t want him to fly away.”

Sam holds up his phone and types something into it. “His acrobatics, did it look like this?” He shows Dean a video.

“Yeah, he was dive-bombing and everything.”

Sam snorts. “You’re an idiot.”

“What did I do?”

“He built a nest in your bed,” says Sam. “He’s trying to help you preen. He sleeps with you every night.”

Dean opens, then closes his mouth.

“You were the first one to pick him up. You carry him, a gigantic bird, on your shoulder like a pirate. You feed him. Hell, you almost gave him a bath.”

Castiel’s mind might be a little slower than it was because it takes a minute to click into place.

“He just did a mating dance for you,” says Sam. “And, by the looks of it, you rejected him.”

The room goes very very still. Castiel’s heart almost stops. Something about this feels forbidden, but he can’t remember why.

The silence is overwhelming, but suddenly Dean lifts his hand. He holds his arm out to Castiel.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know”

The spell has impacted him more than he realized because, without thinking, he flies to Dean’s arm and nibbles at his ear.

Dean sighs. “We’ve got a lot to figure out.”

“ _You’ve_ got a lot to figure out,” says Sam.

“You at least have to help me de-bird him.” He turns back to Castiel. “I didn’t mean to reject you. I just didn’t know what you were doing. I’m dumb like that.”

Dean’s not dumb. He’s smart and beautiful. Castiel returns to his shoulder and nuzzles his beak into Dean’s hair.

 

* * *

Dean wakes up in the morning and doesn’t make any sense. He makes noises and smiles though, so things must not be too dire. Dean bobs his head, so Castiel bobs his head back. Dean shakes his head, so Castiel shakes his head back. Dean breathes out and motions to his shoulder. Castiel hops over to him and climbs on, ready to face the day. He has one purpose, Dean.

They go to a different room and Dean makes something to eat. When they sit at the table, Castiel notices Dean’s food is different than his own. Concerned for his health, he tears a piece of meat from his breakfast and places it on top of whatever strange thing Dean was going to eat.

Dean makes a face, then makes a garbled sort of noise. It’s not good that they can’t understand each other. They need some form of communication.

Dean goes back to eat his nasty food. He doesn’t seem to understand, so Castiel clarifies. He hops over to the food and pushes it onto the floor with one foot, then screeches so Dean will know not to eat it again.

Dean rubs a hand over his face and makes another noise.

Castiel shoves more meat his way.

Dean shakes his head, and Castiel shakes his head back. At least they’re on the same page. He flutters over to the door and scratches at it with a talon.

Dean clearly has no idea what that means because he doesn’t open the door.

Another man enters the room. He smells familiar and Castiel doesn’t feel terribly threatened, so he scratches the door again.

Dean and the man exchange looks.

Castiel tilts his head to the side.

The next few days go along in a similar pattern. Dean refuses to eat, the other man keeps bothering them, and no one will let him go outside. He starts plucking out more of his feathers just to have something to do. He adds them to the nest. At least they’re sleeping. He needs to go outside. If he goes outside, he can kill something and bring it home for Dean to eat.

He considers his options while grooming Dean’s hair one evening. He makes up his mind. If Dean won’t eat, neither will he.

 

* * *

Dean doesn’t look good. Not eating is killing them both and Castiel doesn’t understand why Dean’s decided this is they way they’re going to die. He’s too weak to fly. He mostly wants to sleep. Dean carries him to another room and sits with him in his lap.

The other man is there. He’s eating something that smells terrible, but at least he’s eating. To his surprise, the man passes some food to Dean and Dean accepts it. He eats. Castiel stares at him. Dean’s going to poison himself. He ruffles his feathers and tries to explain.

Dean sets the poison down. Castiel wonders how Dean survived this long on his own.

He picks up the poison again.

Castiel screeches.

Dean eats it defiantly. Frustrated, Castiel takes a bite. If this is how they die, so be it. For some reason Dean’s expression changes to excitement. He takes a bite then offers Castiel a bite.

Castiel wonders how long he has to wait for death.

Poison still in hand, Dean lifts Castiel in his free arm and hurries out of the room. He sets Castiel on another table, then sets some real food in front of him. Castiel glares.

Dean’s eyes are pleading.

The other man enters the room and makes a face. He says something to Dean.

Dean makes a face. He picks up a piece of meat, closes his eyes and puts it in his mouth.

Castiel shouts and flaps his wings, because finally! He takes a bite too.

Dean lets out a heavy breath and sinks back into his chair. The other man seems very excited that they’re both eating.

Dean eats another piece of meat and so does Castiel. It tastes amazing after so long without food. He flaps his wings again and Dean smiles.

 

* * *

Sometimes his mate doesn’t sleep through the night. They need sleep. Castiel’s feathers have started growing back, but his mate still seems stressed. He’s eating now, but that hasn’t helped as much as Castiel thought it would.

He does his best to calm him when he starts screaming, he can usually make him stop screaming. It’s the quiet moments that scare him. There are times when his mate wakes up and stares at him with a look that makes Castiel sad. He wishes they could communicate better. It seems like something they were able to do once.

One groggy morning his mate stumbles out of their nest as usual. Castiel flies to his shoulder and nips at him. His mate makes his usual morning noise. His hair is tufted and out of place so Castiel busies himself with fixing it.

They go to the place with food but instead of meat, he smells something rancid. The other person is waiting for them. He’s busy with human things so Castiel ignores him.

His mate doesn’t make breakfast. He drinks water and offers some to Castiel. Then they make their way over to the other human. Castiel doesn’t like this. He tightens his grip on his mate’s shoulder and makes a noise.

His mate scratches his head and runs his hands over his feathers. He settles onto the floor and puts Castiel in his lap. His arms circle around Castiel and holds him tighter than usual.

The other human holds something to his mate’s lips. To his horror, Castiel realizes the rancid smell is coming from the thing his mate is now drinking. Castiel’s eyes widen because he can’t do this again. He doesn’t want to starve and poison himself and he doesn’t want to watch his mate die. He struggles but his mate is strong and won’t let go.

The other human holds a similar looking thing to Castiel’s beak and he has to drink. He has to make himself drink because whatever they do, they do together. He forces himself to sip. It doesn’t taste as bad as it smells, but part of him hopes he dies this time. This game is maddening.

The next thing he feels is excruciating pain. It shoots through his body like electricity. He cries out. His mate holds him tight.

“Come back, Cas.”

It’s the last thing he hears.

 

* * *

Castiel wakes up in the middle of gigantic bird nest. He squints at it. He vaguely remembers building it. He looks down at his body, his vessel. He’s back to his human form.

“Morning, Sunshine,” says Dean.

Castiel blinks at him.

“Welcome back,” says Sam.

Dean waves a hand in front of his face. “Are you all there?”

Castiel nods slowly. “Yes,” he answers. “I think I’m all here.”

Suddenly Dean is pulling him out of the nest and into his arms. “You scared the shit out of us.”

It comes back to him slowly. He remembers the first part of his transformation more clearly than the last, but he remembers the most important part. He remembers revealing his feelings for Dean. Did Dean accept him? He thinks he did. He cocks his head to the side and looks at Dean.

“Do you feel all right?” asks Sam. “Is everything back to normal?”

“Did you get your grace back?” asks Dean.

Castiel flexes his grace within his body. “Yes,” he answers. “I’m back to normal.”

Dean’s still holding him in his arms. “We thought we’d lost you,” he says.

“I—um.” Castiel is suddenly short on words. “I’m all right.”

Sam laughs. “I’ll let you two catch up,” he says. “Good to have you back, Cas.” He leaves the room.

Dean grins and brushes a lock of hair from Castiel’s forehead. “You sure you’re ok?”

Castiel nods.

“Why’d you stop eating?”

“I thought you weren’t eating,” answers Castiel. “I thought you were starving yourself.”

“I wasn’t starving, I just wasn’t eating around you because you knocked my food on the floor. I even had to pretend to drink the counter-potion to get you to take it.”

“Sorry.” He searches Dean’s eyes, Dean who he can’t have. Dean, a human, who is holding him like this is something possible, Dean who doesn’t seem to understand that angels and humans are forbidden from being with each other.

“So,” says Dean, “bird-you kind of claimed me. Do you remember that?”

Castiel blushes. “I remember.”

“You still want me?”

“We can’t.”

“Hell yes we can. If you want to do this, we can do it.”

Castiel licks his lips. “I want you,” he says softly. “Very much.”

Dean leans in and kisses him gently. “I want you, too.”

“Did I do a mating dance?” asks Castiel.

“You did. Scared the crap out of me. I didn’t know what the hell you were trying to do. Sam had to tell me. You also kept stealing my hair.”

“In my defense, I was a bird.”

Dean grins and kisses him again, lingering a little longer this time. “I missed you,” he says.

“I missed you too.”

“Now we just need to de-nest our bed.”

“Our bed?”

It’s Dean’s turn to blush. “Oh, I just assumed.”

“No, it’s fine. I guess—I guess this is real.”

“Hell yeah it’s real.” He runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair. “Our bed, our house, our lives. If you want to do this then I’m with you 100 percent.”

“I want this,” says Castiel.

“Good. Then you’re stuck with me.”

Castiel snaps his fingers and Dean’s bed returns to normal. He grins. “I suppose I am.”


End file.
